


thunderstorms

by hansen



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Storms, but with some boyf riends at the end there, its mostly just like.. a post-squip jeremy study, the ending is shitty im so sorry please take this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansen/pseuds/hansen
Summary: Jeremy loves thunderstorms. He loves Michael, too.





	thunderstorms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rantaboutbees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rantaboutbees/gifts).



> sooo i was inspired by @rantaboutbees on tumblr's post (link in the end note!) about jeremy loving thunderstorms!! so enjoy some boyf riends drinking hot cocoa and making out!!

The telltale sound of rain pitter-pattering on his bedroom window was enough incentive to get Jeremy Heere out of bed. It was 6 PM on a Sunday and he should have been doing his homework instead of laying in bed playing Pokemon Sun. He was being irresponsible. He was being lazy. Overall, and perhaps more accurately, he was being super depressed. A thunderstorm was just what he needed to shake him from such a state, and the Earth had been kind enough to give him just that.

Jeremy _loved_ thunderstorms. They were dark and cold and forced you to retreat indoors, where you could curl up under your blankets and drink apple cider. They were comforting in a way that probably seemed weird to most people, but Jeremy didn’t care. When he rolled out of bed and drew back his window curtain, the sight of dark clouds layered thickly against the sky sent a spark of excitement up his spine.

There was a specific routine Jeremy liked to follow when a thunderstorm decided to creep into the sky of his little New Jersey town. 

Step one: put on Michael’s sweatshirt.

Two years ago, Michael left a hoodie at Jeremy’s house. It’d been a little too big on Michael at the time. It said “Boston University” on the front -- a gift from Michael’s older brother, who went to BU for a year before dropping out. Jeremy loved it. It was warm and soft and smelled like Michael, but Jeremy would never say that out loud. After rummaging through his closet for a couple minutes, Jeremy unearthed the sweatshirt and tugged it on over his t-shirt. He stole an almost guilty glance of himself in the mirror and couldn’t deny the warm feeling in his stomach at the sight of himself in Michael’s clothes. 

Over the sweatshirt, Jeremy pulled on another coat. He wanted to keep Michael’s sweatshirt dry when he went outside (which was step three).  
Step two: get hot chocolate mix.

The whole point of a thunderstorm was to make staying inside all the more cozy and warm. Hot chocolate was basically essential for cozy warmness. Jeremy’s dad kept the hot chocolate mix in the top cupboard in the kitchen, so Jeremy pulled over a chair and stood on it to find his cocoa mix. He stashed the box in the front pocket of his sweatshirt and stepped down from the chair, his socked feet making muted thuds as they hit the floor.

The last step was Jeremy’s favorite.

Step three: bike to Michael’s house.

When he looked out the window once more, Jeremy noticed with pleasure that the rain was coming down much harder than before. The clouds were thick and dark like looming shadows. Jeremy hadn’t a single qualm about that.  
He walked out to the garage and pulled on his dad’s hiking boots (which hadn’t been hiked in since 2012). Jeremy thought he should tell his dad he was leaving, but the pull of the rain calling out to him overshadowed any other responsibility. He’d deal with it later. For now, he pulled his bike out of the disarray of the garage’s miscellaneous mess. Jeremy was too tall for his bike, he knew, but he’d been biking to Michael’s house during thunderstorms since fifth grade. Even if he had a car (which he did not), it wouldn’t be the same as pedaling as fast as he could and feeling the wind and rain swirl around him as he flew by. 

The sun struggled desperately to seep through the clouds. Jeremy walked his bike outside and closed the garage behind him. For a moment, he reveled in the rain hitting his face and matting his hair to his forehead. He didn’t want to wait too long, though. Michael was expecting him.

Jeremy swung a leg over the side of his bike and pushed himself off into the vacant road. No one was crazy enough to drive in such bad weather, but Jeremy knew better than to let such a beautiful storm go to waste. The bike tires wobbled against the slick road and any normal person would’ve been scared to death of falling. Jeremy had experienced things way scarier than slipping off his bike. He could handle it. He had nothing to be afraid of.  
Bike rides like this gave Jeremy some time to think. He didn’t think about the whole SQUIP disaster, though. He’d put that behind him -- everyone did. None of them liked to dwell too much on what they’d gone through. Jeremy didn’t think about Christine, either. Trying to date Christine felt weird. Jeremy felt stupid for not wanting to date her after going through all of that trauma, but at the same time, he wasn’t going to force himself. He had no room in his life to let himself be unhappy. Not anymore.

No, it wasn’t the SQUIP and it wasn’t Christine. It was Michael that took up all of Jeremy’s thoughts. That had been happening a lot recently. Jeremy could never seem to get Michael out of his head. Michael’s smile, Michael’s eyes, Michael’s hands and fingers and calloused thumbs from playing his out-of-tune ukulele. The way Jeremy’s name sounded when coming from Michael’s lips, the way Michael’s laugh sounded when it was muffled by a bean bag. Everything about Michael, Jeremy had come to realize, was _perfect_. Jeremy had no idea what to do about it. He never went beyond thinking about Michael. He never allowed himself to breach into _kissing_ Michael, _touching_ Michael, _loving_ Michael.

Jeremy was trying to let himself be happy. Michael made him happy. There was no way he could somehow ruin his friendship with Michael by letting it go beyond just that: a friendship. Michael surely didn’t like Jeremy that way. Perfect, beautiful Michael wasn’t going to be tied into a relationship with his beanpole best friend of 12 years.

Jeremy’s body brought itself to an abrupt halt, slamming his foot onto the pavement below. Shaking his head and looking up, he realized he was at Michael’s house. Jeremy took a moment to let the rain wash away all of his unrequited-love thoughts. Everything was going to be okay. Michael made everything okay. 

After wheeling his bike into Michael’s garage and dropping his sopping wet overcoat on top of it, Jeremy stuck a hand in the front pocket of his hoodie. The hot chocolate mix survived with minimal water damage. The rest of Jeremy… Not so much. His hair and pants were soaked. Chilling droplets of water slipped down his neck and spine, sending shivers through his body. Much like a dog, Jeremy shook his head. He kicked off his shoes and opened the door to the Mells’ house that was inside the garage. It was always unlocked, just in case Jeremy wanted to drop by.

Jeremy did his best not to drip all over the Mells’ house. Quietly as he could, Jeremy sneaked down into the basement, where Michael’s room was. The sound of Weezer playing over the stereo and Apocalypse of the Damned humming on Michael’s TV made Jeremy grin. His favorite place in the world was Michael’s basement. He padded down the stairs and immediately noticed Michael, lounging on the left side of his bedsheet-less mattress (the right side was Jeremy’s side). Michael noticed him immediately, pausing the game to grin at Jeremy. 

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Jeremy’s eyes lit up and he grinned, perhaps a bit wildly. “It’s storming!” he informed Michael, as if that wasn’t already obvious.

“So I’ve heard,” Michael answered, his lips quirked in a half-grin that Jeremy wanted to kiss right off of him. 

After a moment’s pause, Jeremy remembered the hot chocolate. He fished it from his front pocket and tossed it to Michael, who fumbled only momentarily before victoriously catching it. “Hot chocolate?” Jeremy proposed.

“You know it.” 

It wasn’t long before Michael was trailing behind Jeremy upstairs to make some shitty, watered-down hot chocolate in the Keurig coffee machine. It wasn’t the best, but Jeremy loved it. He loved drinking hot chocolate with Michael, out of his Player One mug. Michael had the Player Two mug, and they knew the mugs were from a couples’ set, but they totally weren’t using the mugs _like that_ so it was fine. 

Jeremy stared at Michael when he wasn’t looking. Occasionally, he thought Michael might be doing the same thing. He was probably just imagining it.  
Once well-equipped with two mugs of hot chocolate, Jeremy and Michael returned downstairs. They settled on the mattress, shoulder-to-shoulder. Jeremy’s pants made a squishing sound when he sat down and Michael giggled so hard he almost spilled his drink. Jeremy thought he might be in love.

“You’re dripping all over my mattress,” Michael complained, but he was grinning behind his mug as if he didn’t really mind.

“Oh, yeah?” Jeremy challenged. With no warning, he slung a wet leg across Michael’s lap, grinning at the surprised squeak Michael made. 

Michael squirmed, his little protests interrupted by his own giggles. “Get off me! Now I’m all wet!” He took a moment to set aside his hot chocolate, scared he’d spill it. Jeremy did the same, and with his now free hands he wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist. Michael whined, pushing halfheartedly at Jeremy’s chest. He eventually went limp, accepting defeat. “You’re a jerk.” 

Jeremy pouted. “That’s not a very nice thing to call your best friend.”  

Michael’s eyes were soft and his smile was softer. “What d’you want me to call you, Jer?” Jeremy’s heart leapt to his throat. He was thankful for the rainwater already dampening his skin because had it not been there, Jeremy’s nervous sweating would have been painfully obvious. He didn’t know the answer to Michael’s question.

Well, he did. He did know the answer. He didn’t want to admit it, but _God_ , did he know.

Jeremy’s eyes were wide. Michael’s eyes were so, so brown and Jeremy wanted to stare at them all day. Stupidly, Jeremy lurched upward and -- God, what was he thinking? -- kissed Michael Mell right on the lips.

Outside, thunder protested Jeremy’s terrible decision.

Michael didn’t move. Jeremy’s dry lips pressed against Michael’s plush, soft ones for two, three, four, five seconds. Neither of them breathed. Jeremy pulled away and licked his lips.

“I don’t know why I did that.” Jeremy’s voice was blunt. He didn’t blink.

“I don’t know why you did that either,” Michael said, then kissed him again.

Michael was kissing Jeremy. Michael made the conscious decision to kiss Jeremy. Michael Mell was deliberately and consensually kissing Jeremiah Heere on the fucking lips.

Jeremy was going to lose his mind.

His hands moved from Michael’s waist to his hair. They moved in harmony. Jeremy shifted until he was all but straddling Michael’s lap. Michael’s hands pulled Jeremy’s hips closer and God damn it, that was a good feeling. 

Jeremy’s skin felt so hot it could evaporate the rainwater that still clung to it. Jeremy could feel Michael’s hands curl around the fabric of his sweatshirt. It was so unbearably hot under that fucking sweatshirt and Jeremy itched to take it off. Jeremy let his hands drift down to Michael’s, covering them and guiding them slowly to slide under his shirt. Michael’s fingertips were rough against Jeremy’s skin. Against his lips, Michael gasped at the skin-to-skin contact. It was so much all at once. 

Regrettably, Michael leaned back, unattractively gasping for air. Jeremy looked down at him, lips parted, red-faced and glassy-eyed. 

“Holy shit…” Michael gasped.

“Holy shit,” Jeremy agreed.

When Michael’s breathing settled down, his hands started fidgeting with the hem of Jeremy’s t-shirt under his sweatshirt. “So… That just happened.” 

Jeremy nodded. His hands were still on top of Michael's.

When Jeremy didn’t respond, Michael continued. “And how do we feel about that…?” 

"I feel like... I wanna kiss you again."

Michael nodded eagerly. Jeremy was definitely in love. "Proceed."

Jeremy did as he was told. The thunder outside agreed with his decision.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is always encouraged  
> comments and kudos appreciated! <3
> 
> the post: http://rantaboutbees.tumblr.com/post/160530483819/headcanon-jeremy-loves-thunderstorms-its-like  
> tumblr: @jeremyheere


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